


The Strangest Saviour Of Them All

by MusicPlotter



Series: Whumptober 2019 [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Delirium, Don't copy to another site, James Potter Lives, Lily Evans Potter Lives, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 22:13:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20881511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicPlotter/pseuds/MusicPlotter
Summary: Harry Potter has a second chance. He saves his parents, but can he save Voldemort?





	The Strangest Saviour Of Them All

Harry Potter was 104 years old, he was also 17 years old. 

He had three children, but he also had never had children in his life.

All of Harry Potter’s friends were dead and yet they were sleeping peacefully in their dorms.

Of course, there were quite a few potential explanations for this - maybe Harry Potter was a time traveller, maybe he’d hopped across dimensions like a rabbit seeking home, maybe that Master of Death rubbish actually held some weight.

Harry didn’t care about any of that, all he cared about was that he finally had a second chance to fix the chaos that had rained down upon the world after the Muggles had found out about the wizarding world. One day, he might care, when it is time for him to face his death again, but he wasn’t planning on that day coming for a long time.

When he had been bleeding out from being shot after finally being found by those monsters, he had closed his eyes, hopeful that maybe he could meet his parents in the afterlife, take a train to them and his friends. And he did because when his eyes opened again, he came face to face with a woman with long red hair and green eyes just like his - for a moment he thought that he had gotten his wish until he realised he was the size of a baby.

There had been comments when he was that small about how quiet he was, that he never cried, not when he was hungry and not when he lost control of his bowels (and wasn’t that embarrassing - he was a grown man!). He began talking earlier than most and James had been so proud, boasting to Sirius, Remus and Peter about every little thing he said. He had wanted to choose the best first word possible, not many get the opportunity after all, but had eventually chosen a simple ‘dada’ just to see Jame’s face glow. It was hard to train his muscles to say the words, but he had the will, which very little babies have and was soon speaking complete sentences.

Naturally, he had to show some of his inner marauders and was soon calling everyone ‘dada’, resulting in some rather hilarious moments involving Dumbledore, Sirius and Alice Longbottom.

Peter Pettigrew was a problem. Harry wanted more than anything to remove the traitor from his life, so much so that one day when Peter was babysitting him when Harry was around eight months old, his magic may have  _ accidentally  _ pushed Peter down the stairs. It shouldn’t have been fatal, not really, but Harry’s parents weren’t due back home for hours and Peter ended up bleeding out from a head wound. What a tragic accident.

The best thing was how when Peter had died, the glamour hiding the deathly black mark on his arm was broken, meaning that his parents didn't mourn the death of a friend for long, but more the fact that they had lost him to begin with. They had been horrified when they realised that they had left little baby Harry with a Death Eater - even one as useless as Pettigrew - but after what seemed like a thousand medical scans, he was declared as healthy as he could possibly be. 

Similarly, the magic of the Fidelius Charm latched onto the nearest person alive - Harry, and he certainly wasn’t going to betray his family, so they were safe.

His magic was another problem - well, not necessarily a problem, but it seemed like however, he had gotten here his magic had been doubled and then some. As if whatever magic he had from before had reacted to the magic in the body of the baby and multiplied it. It did mean that accidental magic occurred just as often, if not more often than any other child because although Harry had grasped control of his magic in his last life, he had much more now than he knew what to do with.

Without having a way into the Potter household, the Dark Lord’s attacks on the Potters and Longbottoms were put to the side, simply declaring that they couldn’t hide forever. This meant Dumbledore had to finally step up to the plate and deal with the Dark Lord since no children were doing it for him. Voldemort was banished - because of course, Dumbledore couldn’t kill him, that was up to the prophecy child as if Dumbledore didn’t have the power to do it himself!

And so he grew up fairly normally, finally getting the childhood he deserved - except he could never quite forgot how he had been hunted down by Muggles after they had discovered the existence of magic. He still had his yearly encounters with Voldemort, only now Neville stood next to him as the other prophecy child and they found new ways to defeat Voldemort together since neither held a magical protection that could disintegrate the Dark Lord. 

In their first year, it had seemed like all hope was lost, when Harry had had a burst of accidental magic, expelling the extra soul from Quirrel’s body. Second year had almost been a disaster until Harry realised that he still held his parseltongue gift from his previous life. The next year had been relatively quiet, with no ‘mass murderers’ escaping to try and ‘kill’ Harry. Though it seemed like fate was in action as Voldemort still ended up putting Harry’s name into the Triwizard Tournament, even without Pettigrew’s help to nurse him back to health. Fifth year was one of his best years, as Voldemort had no way into Harry’s head and the sixth year could have been even better if the Dark Lord hadn’t gotten impatient.

Soon, Harry realised he had a choice to make. 

He had the power to destroy Voldemort completely and forever, although he was still the only one that knew the extent of his powers. This seemed like a simple choice at first, but he had been ignoring it for years for a reason - Harry was old and he had a lot of magical power, but he was no genius, not like Tom Riddle had been. Voldemort’s later strategies had been a poor representative of the man he had once been.

Pure force and power wouldn’t work on hiding from the Muggles, or even winning against them in the event of them still discovering the wizarding world. No, he needed Tom Riddle.

That’s how Harry Potter got to where he was now, standing in front of a trapped Voldemort, who was behind wards that would only let him out once he had no ill harm for Harry.

He knew that the ritual he was about to do was going to be significantly taxing on even his magic - no mortal man was supposed to be able to force a soul back together after it had been torn so brutally apart, but he had never been normal. As such, he could not risk Voldemort escaping once he was weak and attacking him in anger.

It was time.

He needed to do this.

Even if he would be releasing an even more dangerous Voldemort onto the world.

He repeated the words from the theoretical research he had found down in Slytherin’s chamber, unsure if it would even work, but needing to try. He had a family now, people that truly loved him, he refused to lose them to the Muggles.

Power was building inside of him, stronger than he had ever felt it before, building more and more, stronger and stronger until it expulsed from him in one great wave, being directed by the ritual into Voldemort - or was he Tom Riddle now?

Harry fell to his knees, losing all sense of himself as the amount of magic he had experienced filled him with near giddiness. He stared at his hands, mumbling incoherently as a drugged smile took over his face.

There was no sense of time as he sat there, delirious from too much magic before cool hands were pulling him up and over to the armchair in the corner of the room. If he had been any more aware of his surroundings, he might have panicked, after all, no one was supposed to be aware of his location today.

Had he been able to notice the uncharacteristically confused black eyes staring down at him, he may have been happy, or even surprised, that the ritual had worked.

All the figure hovering above him knew was that he could not deal with these new emotions, the new realisations of his actions over the last few decades, the mistakes he had made. Instead, he focused on the boy in front of him, his enemy, who seemed to have an extortionate amount of power to be able to complete the ritual he had. Voldemort -  _ or was he Tom now? _ \- had read that ritual in the Chamber of Secrets when he had been trying to discover if making Horcruxes would have a negative impact on his power but had discarded after realising it was purely theoretical.

_ Stupid reckless Gryffindors risking their lives for the enemy. _

**Author's Note:**

> OOOOHHHH. I have a deep need to write a long ass fic for everything I've missed out!! I had to stop myself from writing too much that had nothing to do with the prompt or I would have never have gotten to it.
> 
> Also, I'm very happy, because this formatted correctly straight away!
> 
> Let me know what you think!


End file.
